Friend Or Foe, You Never Know
by Clarounette
Summary: Set after First Class. Erik kidnapped Charles; he had something to show him. Or someone.


The bag on his head was useless. He could feel it : the void where someone should stand, the lack of thoughts. The reverse of a beacon, like a black hole that sucked his mind. "Erik, I know it's you." The car – truck ? – had started to move.

As if he was the telepath, Erik replied : "The bag stays."

"Wh-"

"I don't want you to know where we're going. Now shut up."

Charles did. The defects of the road, holes and bumps and ridges, reverberated in Charles' wheelchair. With a little work, he could probably guess their destination, but he decided not to try. There was no need : despite everything that had happened, he still trusted his old friend.

He wasn't afraid. More like curious. He hadn't seen him nor heard from him since Cuba. Just thinking about it made him nervous. At the memory, he felt a weird stirring in his dead limbs. He put his hand on his thigh, but there was nothing. No sensation. The brain was definitely a strange machine.

They spent a large part of the journey in silence. Erik didn't seem to be the one driving the vehicle, there was someone else with them. But even the mysterious driver, whoever it was – someone who was blocking his power, for sure – didn't say a word. Only his heavy breathing and the occasional grunt revealed his presence.

He was almost asleep when Erik's voice rose again, slightly muffled by the bag on Charles' head. "We'll be there soon. I'm gonna remove the bag. Make no attempt at escape, you won't go far. It doesn't matter that there's nothing metal in your wheelchair my friend here will catch you in a minute." As if prompted by Erik talking about him, the man behind the wheel growled – another mutant, then. Even if the wheelchair wasn't already an inconvenience, Charles wouldn't try and escape : there was no way to know what his power was, but Charles didn't like the animal noises that came from his mouth.

The bag remained on his head. Charles supposed he had to say something. "Okay, Erik."

That was enough, and the bag soon disappeared. The light coming through the truck's windows blinded him for an instant, and Charles moved his hand briskly to cover his eyes. It didn't went far : Erik opened his palm and stopped his wrist, using his power on Charles' watch. "Seriously, Erik ?" Charles asked. "You know that I don't really need to touch my temple to use my power, right ? Either way, you're wearing your damn helmet !"

Surprisingly, Erik looked ashamed. "Sorry. Bad reflex. But I know the strength of your power, and better sorry than dead."

Trust had always been a one-way trip between them. Nothing had changed. It hurt.

When his eyes had adjusted to the light, Charles looked around. They were on a dirt road, approaching the entrance of an abandoned mine. They drove in and, not far inside, they met with a heavy metal door that Erik opened with a wave of his hand. A secret cave. It was so typical of Erik that Charles smiled at the idea.

"What ?" Erik asked, a frown on his brow visible despite the helmet.

"Still into the whole German spy style ? So old school, Erik. Do you have secret rooms behind bookcases too ?"

"Shut up !" Erik then closed up like a clam, and they finished their journey in silence.

The driver – Charles could now see that it was a huge beast-like man with a mane of blond hair and long pointy teeth, a weird circlet around his head – stopped the truck between other vehicles in an underground car park. He then proceeded to remove his metal protection. Charles took a glimpse at his mind : Sabretooth was his name and fast healing his power. Practically immortal and armed with claws and fangs, the guy seemed like a deadly threat. Somehow, Charles wasn't surprised that Erik had recruited someone of this man's kind. Erik wanted a war and needed the strongest warriors.

The truck's back door opened, thanks to Erik's power, and two mutants grabbed his wheelchair and put it on the ground. Azazel and Riptide. He knew those men : they were once his foes. And maybe they still were. Friends of friends weren't always your friends, after all.

"Now, leave us alone," Erik ordered. Those mutants he knew capable of the greatest evil, with dangerous powers, obeyed to Erik's order like tamed wolves. Charles couldn't help but feel a little admiration for his old friend.

Once alone in the deserted car park, Erik walked behind Charles and pushed his chair. "No need for that, Erik. It's motorized."

"I prefer to be in control. I don't like you wandering around."

"As if you wouldn't be able to catch me in an instant. It's a wheelchair, not a formula one."

At that, Erik laughed heartily and, somehow, the years they'd been apart melted like butter under the sun. The rollercoaster of emotions he felt since Erik had kidnapped him left him numb and tired. He almost wished for their old rivalry to be back. Better knowing where they stood than wondering whether Erik was going to kill him or kiss him the next time he spoke. His telepathy made him all too aware of uncertainties.

They went through corridors after corridors, turning left or right seemingly randomly, and, after a while, Charles finally asked : " Why am I here, Erik ?"

"There's someone you need to see."

Erik didn't need to say who it was. "Is she alright ?"

Erik nodded. "More than alright. I know you worry about her, so I wanted you to see how well she fares."

At first happy, Charles soon became nervous. He remembered the way she left him wounded on the beach, so angry with him that she didn't hesitate. For many years, he had been mistaken about what she needed and how to protect her. She had exploded and showed him the wrong in his ways. Too late for him to try and redeem himself though. She had abandoned him. "She won't want to see me."

"And she won't. You are not to meet each other. I just want you to see her now." He opened one last door and they went in a dark room with a large bay window. Erik tapped on the glass. "One-way mirror." On the other side, Raven was training half a dozen young recruits in various combat arts. Against his will, he felt admiration for his sister. She had chosen her way, and although he would never approve, she followed her own path, independant. And deadly. As he looked at her, she kicked a punching bag so hard it broke in the middle. The smile she offered at her students was fearless and provocative : she dared them to become as strong as she was.

Without thinking, Charles put his hand on the glass and caressed her cheek from afar. She was beautiful – as beautiful as a tiger about to kill its prey. "Did she participate in your last actions ? Did she..." 'Kill a man', he wanted to ask. But it was difficult to associate his little sister with murder, and the words wouldn't pass his lips.

Erik looked at him intensely. "You don't really want to know."

It was true. "No, I don't." He needed Raven – the Raven in his memory – to remain pure. The dangerous woman he was looking at wasn't Raven. Her name was Mystique. He sighed. "Can you take me back home, please ?"

"Of course."

This time, Erik drove the truck, and they were alone. They kept silent but it was a comfortable silence. A silence between two old friends who haven't much to say, but who know the other will always be here for him.

They stopped at the mansion, and Erik helped him getting on the ground. "Thanks, Erik," Charles said.

Erik shrugged.

"Will you come again ?"

"You never know." Erik smiled.

Was it a promise ? Charles wanted to believe. "Next time, you won't need the bag." Charles turned around and went into his house without looking back. He knew Erik would always have his back.


End file.
